Adelaide Anne Procter (October 30, 1825 – February 2, 1864) was an English poet, the eldest daughter of the poet Bryan Procter.
Born: October 30th, 1825
Died: February 2nd, 1864
Categories: English poets, 1860s deaths
Quotes: 24 sourced quotes total
| Meta data | Average | Range |
|---|---|---|
| Words (count) | 37 | 17 - 66 |
| Search Results | 13 | 10 - 50 |
Know, dear little one! our Father Will no gentle deed disdain: Love on the cold earth beginning Lives divine in Heaven again, While the angel hearts that beat there Still all tender thoughts retain.
Be strong to hope, O Heart! Though day is bright, The stars can only shine In the dark night. Be strong, O Heart of mine, Look towards the light!
Be strong to love, O Heart! Love knows not wrong; Didst thou love — creatures even, Life were not long; Didst thou love God in heaven, Thou wouldst be strong!
Shine, ye stars of heaven, On a world of pain! See old Time destroying All our hoarded gain; All our sweetest flowers, Every stately shrine, All our hard-earned glory, Every dream divine! Shine, ye stare of heaven, On the rolling years! See how Time, consoling, Dries the saddest tears, Bids the darkest storm-clouds Pass in gentle rain, While upspring in glory Flowers and dreams again!
Words are mighty, words are living: Serpents with their venomous stings, Or bright angels, crowding round us, With heaven's light upon their wings: Every word has its own spirit, True or false, that never dies; Every word man's lips have uttered Echoes in God's skies.
A little longer yet — a little longer, Shall violets bloom for thee, and sweet birds sing; And the lime branches where soft winds are blowing, Shall murmur the sweet promise of the Spring!
A little longer still, and Heaven awaits thee, And fills thy spirit with a great delight; Then our pale joys will seem a dream forgotten, Our Sun a darkness, and our Day a Night.
A little longer, and thy Heart, Belovèd, Shall beat for ever with a Love divine; And joy so pure, so mighty, so eternal, No creature knows and lives, will then be thine.A little longer yet — and angel voices Shall ring in heavenly chant upon thine ear; Angels and Saints await thee, and God needs thee: Beloved, can we bid thee linger here!
I wept that all must die — "Yet Love," I cried, "doth live, and conquer death —" And Time passed by, And breathed on Love, and killed it with his breath Ere Death was nigh.More bitter far than all It was to know that Love could change and die — Hush! for the ages call "The Love of God lives through eternity, And conquers all!"
Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill at ease, And my fingers wandered idly Over the noisy keys. I do not know what I was playing, Or what I was dreaming then; But I struck one chord of music, Like the sound of a great Amen.
It quieted pain and sorrow, Like love overcoming strife; It seemed the harmonious echo From our discordant life.
I have sought, but I seek it vainly, That one lost chord divine, Which came from the soul of the Organ, And entered into mine. It may be that Death's bright angel Will speak in that chord again, It may be that only in Heaven I shall hear that grand Amen.
Dreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming, But where each flows on unmingling, both are fruitless and in vain.
Heaven unites again the links that Earth has broken! For on Earth so much is needed, but in Heaven Love is all!
I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be A pleasant road. I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from me Aught of its load;
I do not ask that flowers should always spring Beneath my feet I know too well the poison and the sting Of things too sweet.
Joy is like restless day; but peace divine Like quiet night; Lead me, O Lord, — till perfect Day shall shine Through Peace to Light.
How can a mother's heart feel cold or weary Knowing her dearer self safe, sheltered, warm? How can she feel her road too dark or dreary, Who knows her treasure sheltered from the storm? How can she sin? Our hearts may be unheeding, Our God forgot, our holy saints defied; But can a mother hear her dead child pleading, And thrust those little angel hands aside?
The way is long and dreary, The path is bleak and bare; Our feet are worn and weary, But we will not despair; More weary was Thy burden, More desolate Thy ways, O Lamb of God, who takest The sin of the world away, Have mercy upon us.
Rejoice, oh! grieving heart, The hours fly past; With each some sorrow dies, With each some shadow flies, Until at last The red dawn in the east Bids weary night depart, And pain is past.
Kind hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.
Hours are golden links, God's token Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them, lest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.
I do not ask my cross to understand My way to see: Better in darkness just to feel Thy hand And follow Thee.
If thou couldst trust, poor soul! In Him who rules the whole, Thou wouldst find peace and rest; Wisdom and sight are well, but trust is best.